


in winter.

by ffomixam



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: No Dialogue, Pre-Act One, Self-Indulgent, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-09-01 00:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20249206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffomixam/pseuds/ffomixam
Summary: Covered in ash and snow; life rears its head.





	in winter.

**Author's Note:**

> "Blow, northern wind; fall snow;  
And thou—my loved and dear,  
See, in this waste of burthened cloud,  
How Spring is near!" - Walter de la Mare.

It was during a new and rather ordinary errand for Athenril that Veronika and her brother Carver came across something rather… peculiar. 

They had gone into the forests surrounding Sundermount with a mission lingering strongly in their minds. Together and with a trio of smugglers they had known for a while now but wouldn’t particularly call friends or even acquaintances. The siblings preferred staying for themselves as much as possible when doing work for Athenril’s group. This… gig… was only temporary and it was best not to make friends with anyone in this line of business, or that was what Carver continuously reminded Veronika of whenever her friendly nature shone through the dark clouds of wariness and distrust of Athenril and her gang. Regardless, the five of them walked through the sludge mixture of rain and snow as they came ever nearer the meeting point of today’s mission. They were to meet a group of merchants holding a package safe for Athenril from as far as the Anderfels and it was expected to go calm and easy. 

But it sadly didn’t go as planned (like most things in life, Carver bitterly commented later on) and Veronika quickly had to fidget out her staff and defend herself and the group. It always left a heavy and bitter sensation throughout her body whenever she had been in any form of combat. Using magic for torment and pain haunted her for days afterwards and she wanted nothing else but for it to vanish and to let her continue on in peace but whenever the lingering pain had finally left her; Athenril had something new for her to do.

She stood in the bloody aftermath, feet deep in the falling snow, feeling empty and pondering ever so slightly over the life choices that had gotten her to this point in her young life as her brother and the others went about looking for the package and what else to loot. It felt as if it all had been out of her reach and the changes came and went without her choice in the matter. She had never truly wanted to be a smuggler, she wanted a life peace and charity, but it was for the lack of any better alternative that she joined in with Athenril. 

She blessed her wise decision in splurging in the purchase of heavy woollen material in making her and Carver’s coats when the snow came down heavier and colder from the grey skies on their departure from the carnage they had left. She ignored the glares she got from the large and imposing smugglers as they passed her and her small muttered prayers of godspeed and rest to the victims of today. She knew they may not have been saints, far from it, but no-one deserved to die away from home. It was when Carver placed a heavy hand on her petite shoulder, interrupting her with a remorseful gaze, that they heard a small whimper near the edge of the merchants camp. Veronika was willing to chalk it up to something of nature’s wondrous workings, the bellowing trees, but it continued; sounding louder and pitiful. She stopped immediately in her path, Carver’s heels digging hard into the ground as to not crash into her, when she realised what the sound could possibly be. She yelled to the men in front to stop, much to their confusion and dismay, and rushed to the snow-covered thorn bushes. Carvers yells of warnings were ignored as she carefully parted to vengeful plants and soon found a pair of giant brown eyes staring back at her. It was a puppy, she yelled out in astonishment and lifted her arms out with the little creature safely in the warm embrace. It was a shivering, dirty little thing but Veronika had never been as delighted as she was when it looked up at her with innocence beaming through its scarred face; its gender clear as it laid on _ his _ back in her arms.

The men shook their heads and continued on through the forest; leaving her alone with Carver and the small pup. He noted on it being just not any puppy but a Mabari; something Veronika hadn’t noticed until he stated so. She felt silly, for it was rather obvious with its stout body and a large round face. 

There was no question of whether to bring the poor beast with them home. Veronika wasn’t about to leave it in the freezing cold and Carver was quick to agree. They didn’t care much about their uncle’s thoughts on the matter; deeming that he could easily be persuaded into the positives of having such a guard dog in his home. It was rather the naming of it on their way home that grew into a passionate debate. Carver had a substantial amount of ideas. Something masculine and frightful; something of a warrior, he noted. But she had one of her own and took into account that she was the one to find him and that she was the _ older _ sister. He huffed with dismay and defeat and demanded to know the _ ever-brilliant _ name she had chosen. 

She smiled and looked to the puppy that was slowly drifting off in the warm safety of her arms. _ Galanthus _, she said. For snowdrop. Their little snowdrop.

**Author's Note:**

> first thing i've written for dragon age (and my ocs) despite having been in the fandom for years and years, dfghjk.


End file.
